Jibblies 3: This Time, it's Realistical
by Zazzles the Sandbird
Summary: Strong Bad gets another case of the Jibblies, but is that really what's wrong with him? Strong Sad travels to Princeton Plainsboro to find out... House and his team are faced with their toughest case yet. Are they willing to give it all to solve the puzzle? Set in between Seasons 1 and 2 of House, M.D. T for now, subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

"For the love of Klingon, would you _open the freaking door?_"

Strong Bad banged, kicked, slapped, punched, and even head-butted (even though he was wearing a gas mask) Strong Mad's door in futile attempts to break it down – or at least get his brother's attention. Unfortunately, Strong Mad was blasting Limozeen at top volume – Strong Bad had taught him all too well. In a final, desperate cascade of noise, he stomped to the other side of the hallway, got a running start (what there was room for), and threw himself at the door – just as it opened, and Strong Mad popped his head out. Strong Bad hit him full on in the face.

As malicious and disgusting fumes of the grossest kind filtered into the rest of the house, to Strong Sad's dismay, Strong Mad screamed at his other brother:

"STRONG BAD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Oh, sorry, big dude. I just needed to come into your room for a sec. I think I left my di – I mean jou- I mean notebook full of awesomesauce and totally not girly ideas and stuff that are definitely not my hopes and dreams and life…and stuff."

"OKAY, LITTLE BROTHER. COME IN."

"Well, considering I'm kind of already in – oh, never mind."

Strong Bad pushed (or rather, squeezed) past his big-in-a-different-sense-of-the-term brother. He made sure his mask was fastened tightly, and then began digging through Strong Mad's stuff. After a few minutes, he sat back and sighed.

"Dang it, it's gotta be in here somewhere! I've looked everywhere else in the house!"

"HEY STRONG BAD."

"Yeah?"

"WHERE DID YOU GET THAT GAS MASK?"

"Oh, uh…don't worry about that. I just got it from…a guy. A friend. Yeah."

"OKAY."

Strong Bad glanced desperately around the room. Wait a sec – he hadn't looked in the closet. But then again, that was for a reason – and he knew that reason all too well. Still, I _did _say 'desperately'…Strong Bad sighed again. Looked like he had no other choice. He edged closer to the closet, taking the tiniest steps he had taken since he was a baby. Slowly getting closer, closer, closer still…hearing the memory of a whisper, he shuddered, then got even closer –

"BROTHER! DON'T GO IN THERE! BAD IN THERE!"

"Yeah, I know, little bro. I know. But I have to."

Eventually, Strong Bad reached the door. He slowly pushed open the door…

There it was. His di- jou- notebook.

He breathed his relief and carefully reached in to grab it. Unfortunately, when he lifted it from its hiding spot, he couldn't help but notice what lay beneath it.

The last words he uttered before losing consciousness were, "Oh, crap."

A few minutes later, Strong Sad entered the room wearing a gas mask of his own. "Strong Mad, I've told you time and again, you can't leave the door to your room open for more than a few seconds. Now we're gonna have to find a hotel to spend the week in again. Do you realize how expensive-"

He stopped. Strong Bad was twitching helplessly on the floor.

"YOU LET HIM SEE THE PAINTING AGAIN? DO YOU REALIZE WHAT REPEATED EXPOSURE COULD _DO_ TO HIM?"

Strong Sad, showing an adrenaline-induced burst of superhuman strength, dragged his brother out of his room.

"Great. This is just wonderful. Strong Mad, how long has he been _lying _there like that?"

This entire time, Strong Mad had been frozen in place, shocked by what he was witnessing, unable to understand. Strong Sad's direct question managed to snap him out of it.

"Uhh…ONE….TWO…FIVE…..Q…."

Of course, that doesn't mean he became at all helpful.

"Oh, never mind. We have to get him to a hospital. I've never heard of a seizure lasting this long. Strong Mad, help me get him into the car." Let me explain a couple things: one, Strong Sad lost his burst of strength, and Strong Bad was now lying on the floor again, not to be picked back up by Strong Sad alone. Two, a few weeks ago, Strong Bad had managed to fix and repaint the old car after SBemail 156 failed miserably. It was a feat of epic proportions, but somehow, he managed it. Please, PLEASE don't ask how.

Anyway, about 2 minutes later, all three of them were in the car. Strong Sad was in the front seat, and Strong Mad and Bad were in the backseat, the former buckled in with about 20 seatbelts, and the latter draped limply across the seat, still seizing – or maybe shivering. Strong Sad couldn't really tell. He was just starting the car when he realized something horrifying – there were no hospitals in Free Country. In fact, he had no idea where one might be. He thought frantically for about 10 seconds, and then had a sudden idea.

He wheeled over to Bubs' and ran – or rather, quickly plodded – to the window.

"BUBS! HEY, BUBS! GET OUT HERE! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR USUAL IDIOTIC LETHARGY! MOVE!"

Bubs rushed to the counter. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, S.S. Freak-out! What's the prob?"

"Bubs, you got a GPS anywhere?"

"Well…I'm sure I could look, but it ain't gonna come cheap."

"I KNOW, BUBS. YOU THINK I DON'T HAVE MONEY?"

"Alright, alright, calm down! I'mma go check out the back. Tell you what, you hop over the counter and get yourself a sno-cone while I'm back there. On the house. Might help you cool down."

"I don't need a sno-cone, Bubs, just hurry, please!"

As Bubs dug through his stock, Strong Sad paced anxiously, which is not easy to do in a pair of soolnds, I'll tell you what. Finally, Bubs came back out with what was definitely a working, almost mint condition GPS.

"Bubs, if ever there were a time for you to have something that isn't black market material, now would be it. Thank you SO much."

"Anytime, Saddio, anytime."

Strong Sad raced back to the car and dove in, proceeding to straighten himself and hook up the GPS. He was a bit more technologically inclined than most people thought. He sat back in the driver's seat and entered 'hospital'. He then chose the closest option.

'Calculating route to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.'

A teaching hospital. Of course. Oh well…better than nothing, he supposed.

He restarted the car and drove off, hoping he'd make it in time. Then he glanced into the rearview mirror and realized that Strong Bad was no longer seizing – although he _had _broken out in a sweat. Strong Sad sighed and turned his sight to the fields in front of him, heading towards the highway, hoping it wasn't a long trip.

As Bubs watched him go, he said to himself, "I've never seen the guy in such a hurry. Wonder what he's got goin' on in that strange little head of his…"


	2. Publication Update!

**Hey guys and girls and other people. Just here to say that I'm moving this story to my collab account with DilutedDolphin. Don't freak or anything when this version of the story doesn't get updated, okay? It's being worked on by the two of us on our account, CtrlAltEatReligiousCorn. So if you, against all odds, actually liked this story, IT'S NOT DISAPPEARING. IT'S NOT ON PERMANENT HIATUS. QUITE THE CONTRARY, ACTUALLY. So come see our new account and read the next installment of this epic Houstar saga!**


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